


warmth

by mimimini



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mention of past relationships, Winter, ages have been changed, brr it's cold, doyoung is DRAMATIC, worries about the future and exams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 05:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17176376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimimini/pseuds/mimimini
Summary: Winter break feels intoxicating that year.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was a trainwreck lol enjoy.  
> there’s a cute mutual on my timeline who gushes over dowoo and dowoo aus a lot and this has been fueling me even though i don’t have the guts to tell this person that this (and my previous dowoo as well actually) is the result orz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is kind of angsty but that’s not the tone/style of the whole fic, it’s just doyoung. well, me writing doyoung as an angsty teenager.

Doyoung takes in Jungwoo's puffy eyes and his tear-stained cheeks. With a sigh, he sits next to him on his bed, puts an arm around him, and gently guides him until Jungwoo’s head is resting on his shoulder.

“It's going to be okay,” he tells Jungwoo, because he knows it, because he knows that as much as bidding goodbye pained Jungwoo, the thing between him and that exchange student wasn't going to last anyway. He knows it, and probably even Jungwoo does, deep down, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. They dated for almost five months, until today, when the guy left to go back home. They won't wait for each other, nor they will try to keep things going from afar. Neither Jungwoo nor the other guy wanted that, and it was so clear from the get-go that they probably didn’t even have a proper talk about it. It was expected. The pain Jungwoo is feeling is for a thing that simply ended.

Jungwoo sniffs, shifts a bit to get more comfortable. “I liked him a lot,” he murmurs, and his voice is still broken. Doyoung feels oddly heavy, his whole body sluggish and unable to do what it's supposed to do. Of course Jungwoo liked the guy a lot. Even Doyoung found him nice. For an instant, he’s almost angry at Jungwoo. With such a predictable outcome, why has Jungwoo grown so attached? Doesn’t he have any bit of good sense, doesn’t he know how to protect his own feelings? But even before these thoughts are fully formed in his head, Doyoung is already feeling guilty about them. Jungwoo’s naiveness is what makes him so… So much… Doyoung doesn’t know what word he should use to describe that sensation that Jungwoo causes in his guts.

He doesn't like seeing Jungwoo sad, he really doesn't. He doesn't but… There's an uneasiness at the back of his mind, a complicated feeling that Doyoung can't yet disentangle, and it feels sticky and slimy and Doyoung doesn't want to look at it, because it scares him. So, instead of doing something about it, he reasons now it's time to give his full attention to Jungwoo, Jungwoo who is always by his side when Doyoung needs him, Jungwoo who is in pain. He runs away from that little grimy feeling by wrapping his arms around Jungwoo, angling his body so he can properly hug him, and letting him cry some more into his sweater.

 

Summer drags on in a daze, and most of autumn like a painful stillicide. CSAT is dangerously close, and Jungwoo recovers from heartbreak by doubling down on prep books, pouring all of his attention on his future so he doesn’t have to think about the recent past.

Doyoung relaxes a bit, which should be impossible under all the pressure for the exam, and yet he does. As the weeks pass, Jungwoo’s eyebags are still there, but his eyes aren’t red for crying, just for studying until late at night. They often study together, and little by little, Jungwoo’s smile makes his return. At first, it’s a small movement of his lips’ corners. Then, it’s a small smile. A full smile. A giggle here and there. By September, he’s back to his usual, loud laughter, and Doyoung wants to keep that laughter between his palms and bring it to his ear like a seashell, on the days when he feels cornered and forced to fit into a box too little for him. It’s amazing how Jungwoo can be such a ball of sunshine despite everyone getting crazy for the CSAT.

Doyoung makes a mistake, thinking like this, because all it takes for the illusion to crack is one study session, one Sunday in late October. They’re at Doyoung’s, like many times before, sitting next to each other at Doyoung’s desk. At first, Doyoung just notices Jungwoo’s mechanical pencil’s constant scratch isn’t there anymore. After a couple of minutes, when he finishes the exercise he was on, he steals a glance at Jungwoo, and then notices them--the tears close to start dripping on the paper of his note.

“Jungwoo,” he calls him softly, his hand hovering over Jungwoo’s shoulder, but not quite touching it. “Jungwoo. Hey,” he says, his tone quiet, calming even, even though he’s far from being calm himself, pulling the rolling chair Jungwoo is sitting on so that they can face each other. Their knees bump.

Jungwoo keeps his face down, his hands moving to his face hesitantly, as if to check if his own tears are real.

“It’s so scary,” he says, a sob to punctuate his sentence.

“It’s going to be okay,” Doyoung tries to soothe him, but he’s in no position to say such thing and they both know it, his nerves always stretched so thin lately, in plain sight. He’s mentally cursing himself now, for not realising that Jungwoo couldn’t have possibly been so happy-go-lucky about such a big thing for their future, or rather, for not wanting to notice it, because it’s that outer layer of happiness that keeps Doyoung going lately. He has been using him.

The door of the room creaks open. Jungwoo quickly straightens up and turns back to the desk, trying to conceal the fact that he’s been crying, but Doyoung isn’t as quick at schooling his worried expression into something different, and when his eyes meet his mother’s, he knows instantly that she knows.

“I’ve brought you some snacks, and some tea as well,” she says, in that warm tone that made Doyoung feel safe when he was little. He smiles weakly, getting up to get the tray from her, and before she closes again the door, she gives him a sorry smile, as if it were her direct fault that they have to go through this stress.

Doyoung puts the tray down on the desk, over their books and notes, and Jungwoo doesn’t protest. He has stopped crying, but his face is still scrunched in an expression of pain.

Doyoung hands him a cup filled with tea, takes his, and sits again. The hot cup in his hands seems to have some kind of effect on Jungwoo, who slowly breathes in the scent. They sip their tea calmly, but Doyoung notices Jungwoo’s eyes darting from time to time to the books under the tray, so when they finish their tea, he grabs him by the wrist and drags him to his bed, where he makes him sit down.

“Let’s take a break,” Doyoung says firmly, and he’s not sure where he’s taking all this confidence from, because a corner of his mind tells him to go back to study immediately or he’s going to be sorry, even though the rational part of his brain knows that a couple of hours of rest now won’t change his life, that there’s still time.

He hugs Jungwoo, squeezing him tight, and after a beat, Jungwoo’s hands find their place on Doyoung’s back, his head resting on the crook of Doyoung’s neck. It feels comforting, despite the awkward position, their bodies half turned towards each other. Doyoung lets his eyes close, concentrating on his and Jungwoo’s breathing. He wishes this moment would last forever, his whole world made of the sound of Jungwoo’s now calm breathing, of his warmth.

And then, it makes a reappearance, that slimy, sticky sensation from before. However, this time it’s less sticky, less unpleasant, and he decides to let it be for once, to let it fill him with its confusion, its softness, its… Its…

Jungwoo taps his back with his fingers and then drops his arms, and Doyoung knows the moment is broken. He lets Jungwoo disentangle from him, an unsure smile on his lips, small but indeed there.

“Sorry about that,” Jungwoo murmurs, and Doyoung shakes his head eagerly, because he wants to be there for Jungwoo, he wants to walk on together, and even if he doesn’t know what that feeling in his guts is, even if he doesn’t _want_ to know, he wants to keep dancing on that edge without thinking what lies down below, beyond that drop.

 

And then, it’s over, and it seems unbelievable to Doyoung how so many months were completely devoted to one task, and how that task is now in the past. Doyoung thinks he did good. He hopes he did. His hands are trembling as he sends a message to Jungwoo right after finishing and getting out of the examination room, asking him to meet the next day. The rest of today is to be spent with the family, eat a lot and sleep, because now the biggest ordeal is over, and the worrying for the results can wait.

Jungwoo replies with a smiley face. Doyoung feels on top of the world.

 

Winter break feels intoxicating that year. Hell isn’t over yet, but the end is close, so close. Doyoung feels elated and Jungwoo doesn’t hide his relief either. They spend a lot of their time together, and once again, Doyoung wishes those moments would last forever. Holding onto each other while trying not to slip on the frozen snow. Having hot chocolate with their other friends. Watching all the movies they’ve missed while studying. Life is colouring their cheeks again, the sparkle in their eyes is coming back.

So it feel like all is crashing down when, right before Christmas, Jungwoo texts him about a guy he’s started seeing. Doyoung knows him. He knew him before Jungwoo. The sticky sensation comes back in full force, and this time it’s churning and unpleasant and green. Doyoung should know what this is about, but he doesn’t want to. Because Jungwoo has always been by his side since they entered high school and they’ve been the best of friends through everything, but that’s all they are, friends, he feels Jungwoo’s has made it clear enough in the past, and Doyoung is terrified of what they have right now slipping between his own fingers because of this stupid feeling.

He knows he should reply, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t reply to the next messages either, and he lies down on his bed, pretending a nap when his mother calls him for something. He doesn’t have the heart to ignore his calls as well, though; when Jungwoo calls, early in the evening, he answers, telling him he’s a bit tired and that he hadn’t checked his phone. Jungwoo’s worried tone his like a bitter pill, his concern exhilarating to Doyoung but the lie feeling heavy and terrible on his tongue.

“Can I come later?” Jungwoo asks.

Doyoung doesn’t want to see him now, he needs space to think and just burn down the sticky blob at the back of his mind, but he can’t tell him no. So he tells him he’s okay, his last attempt to avoid him, but Jungwoo is terribly stubborn, as usual.

When Jungwoo shows up, he’s exactly as Doyoung thought he would be. He unwraps his scarf, and his nose and cheeks are red for the cold. Doyoung wishes he could cup those cheeks with his hands just so the cold could maybe wake him up from this dream he doesn’t want to see. Jungwoo sheds his coat, and Doyoung has to chuckle, because underneath it Jungwoo is only wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt, and this is so _Jungwoo_ it feels funny in the weird way a shared joke is.

“You’ll catch a cold or worse if you keep going around like that,” he tells him, and Jungwoo gives him his usual cheeky smile as he sits on Doyoung’s desk chair.

“You’re the one who was too sick to reply to my messages,” he retorts, but there’s no bite in his words.

“Weren’t you going on a date?” Doyoung suddenly asks, because he’s that stupid, apparently, and he doesn’t know how to avoid futile pain.

Jungwoo runs his fingers through his hair, and Doyoung follows his movements. He feels his stomach sink. The sticky feeling is ickier than ever, a green little monster that just grows and runs and seethes and asks, asks, asks for more and Doyoung can’t give anything to it.

“Right, that. Listen to this. That was the shortest date in history,” Jungwoo starts, and the words take a couple of moments to be processed by Doyoung’s brain. He feels heavy and sluggish, the words bending and jumping in his head, but then he understands them and the churning feeling comes to a halt. Maybe he’s really getting sick.

“You already dumped him?” he asks incredulously, cutting Jungwoo’s explanation.

Jungwoo gives him a confused look. “Yes, as I was saying…”

Doyoung tunes out once again Jungwoo’s words. He can’t concentrate on them. Jungwoo goes on and on complaining about how much of a jerk the guy revealed himself to be in less than five minutes today, on their third date, but that’s not the point, or it isn’t for Doyoung, at least. His mood shoots up and he has to look down to his feet to hide the smile that is creeping across his face.

When Jungwoo ends his string of complaints, Doyoung doesn’t know what to say, but Jungwoo looks satisfied just with getting that off his chest. He didn’t listen to most of what he said, but that sure was a lot of happenings for just a few minutes of a date. When Jungwoo checks the time on his phone, he softly gasps.

“You can sleep here,” Doyoung offers, knowing what that meant. It wouldn’t be the first time either; when they studied together for the CSAT, they both happened to stay over at whoever was hosting their study session. It doesn’t mean anything in particular.

Jungwoo seems to mull over it for a couple of seconds, and then he nods. “Why not,” he says, and it doesn’t mean anything, Doyoung tells himself once again, but his mood is still going up and up.

They don’t do much after that. Jungwoo borrows a pajama from Doyoung--it’s just a loose t-shirt and old track pants, actually--and it’s not the first time, either, but Doyoung can’t keep his eyes off him until they turn off the lights, Jungwoo sleeping on Doyoung’s bed, Doyoung on the air mattress he set next to it. They chat a little more, but soon Jungwoo’s breaths turn quiet and regular, and Doyoung knows he’s alone with his thoughts.

Jungwoo is so close, and yet so far; his gaze goes through Doyoung, he doesn’t see him, and the happiness Doyoung felt just moments ago has already wilted and turned into a weight on his chest. He can’t see Jungwoo in the dim light that filters through the blinds, because Jungwoo sleeps with his body almost against the wall, and lying on the air mattress that’s a blind spot. Maybe it’s better like this, he reasons, because he would feel creepy anyway.

Jungwoo is his world, he bitterly admits to himself, but there’s no way Jungwoo feels the same, and this scares him so much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy the sudden and extreme tone change lmao

“Doyoung, you are a complete idiot,” Kun tells him in his most serious tone.

They’re at their usual cafe, and Kun is sipping at some kind of tea with a complicated name Doyoung has never heard of.

“Just tell him,” Kun adds putting his cup back on the table. “You know him. He won’t cut ties with you even if he decides to reject you. And we don’t know if he’ll do that either.”

“I’m the one who needs to cut ties with him if he rejects me,” Doyoung mutters. “And I know I wouldn’t be capable of actually doing it.”

“I’m just telling you. You’re being super moody and angsty and if you keep this up, all your other friends will dump you.”

Doyoung pouts at Kun. “You won’t, though, right?”

Kun grimaces. “Do that to Jungwoo. I don’t want to see that expression on you ever again.”

“But you love me.”

“I’m this,” Kun shows his thumb and index fingers almost touching, “this far from calling Jungwoo and ask him to pick up this useless _friend_ of his.”

Doyoung sighs, his mood for jokes completely drained out of him at the mention of “friend”, and Kun huffs. “I can’t believe you.”

Doyoung avoids his gaze, playing with the cup in his hands, letting the coffee inside slosh a bit.

“Are you sure Jungwoo didn’t notice how weird you’re acting lately?”

“I’m not acting weird,” Doyoung weakly protests. He is. He’s definitely acting weird, but when he’s with Jungwoo he just… Kind of… Lives the moment. He covers Jungwoo with attentions, trying to be subtle, and while it seems to have weirded out some of their most perceptive friends, Jungwoo appears to be oblivious. Unable to keep it in any longer, he spilled his guts to Kun, who in return for his honesty is treating him like this.

Kun folds his arms. “Hey, I’m just worried. I don’t like seeing you like this,” he says, his tone suddenly soft, and Doyoung remembers why he was the one he talked to. “Now he isn’t seeing anyone, but what if he finds himself a boyfriend? You told me that just hearing he went on a date sent you haywire.”

Doyoung squeezes his cup. “I just wish this would all go away. I want to go back to seeing him just as a friend.”

The churning feeling is now a dull, constant sensation, and Doyoung hates it. Hates how it pushes him high and low with the slightest change in the breeze, how it makes him feel upside down and with his limbs in all the wrong places.

“How are you so sure he’s going to reject you?” Kun huffs. “Quite frankly, I don’t think he would reject you.”

Doyoung shakes his head. How can he explain it to Kun? That weird feeling after that day, many months ago, and how it ended up.

He looks at Kun. “Do you still hear from your friends back in China?”

Kun frowns. “Is this… Yes, I do. Not as often as I’d wish, but we keep in touch. Doyoung, is this about university?”

The fact is, there is a high chance both Jungwoo and Doyoung got into the programs they were aiming for. The admissions will go up later that month, but the CSAT scores were great, their past grades are well enough, and Doyoung knows he’s aced his essay, while Jungwoo is pretty sure his practical exam went well. They’ll still be here, in the same city, but they’ll attend different universities, and if the fear of losing Jungwoo because of his feelings terrifies Doyoung right now, the fear of losing him in the future after growing distant naturally looms large in his thoughts.

“Doyoung, you can’t compare going to a foreign country with attending different universities in the same city,” Kun scoffs. “You’re being ridiculous now. That’s it, I’ve had enough of it for today.”

“Don’t leave me,” Doyoung whines, but Kun just ups and leaves him like Doyoung knows he deserves.

His phone lights up right then. It’s a message from Jungwoo. Doyoung opens it immediately.

 

Some of his friends have decided to hold an impromptu FIFA tournament, with Jaehyun graciously offering to host it on his PS4, Jungwoo writes him, and Doyoung almost runs to his friend’s apartment. When he arrives, the whole group is already gathered; there’s Jungwoo, of course, and Jaehyun, sitting on the floor, while Ten, Taeyong, Johnny and Yuta are squeezed on the sofa. Taeyong’s little brother Donghyuck is there too, to make the number even since Kun isn’t coming, and he’s taking the armchair for himself, typing away at his phone.

Jungwoo is terrible at FIFA, and Jaehyun is beating him with a ridiculous score. Doyoung fake-trips on Jaehyun while getting over him to sit next to Jungwoo, and Jungwoo manages to score while Jaehyun is loudly complaining at Doyoung, but it’s really inconsequential and they all know it. Ten smirks at him when Doyoung turns to the sofa to steal a cushion to seat on, and Doyoung feels a chill down his spine. He hastily turns back to Jungwoo and sits down.

Doyoung taking the spot next to Jungwoo is something normal considering that they’re best friends, right? There wasn’t any space left on the sofa, so it’s normal, right? It takes him another couple of minutes before he stops panicking and starts paying attention to the match, and by then it’ss over and Jungwoo has been kicked out of the tournament.

“Oh well,” Jungwoo says with a sigh, not really upset.

 

The next match is Taeyong vs. Yuta, and Doyoung and Jungwoo take the opportunity to steal their places on the sofa, leaving the whining host on the cold, hard floor.

Even with Taeyong and Yuta out of the picture, the space on the sofa simply isn’t enough for four boys to sit comfortably, and Ten keeps elbowing him in a variable degree of accidentality. Doyoung suspects it’s Ten’s revenge for unceremoniously shoving him so he could sit next to Jungwoo on the sofa as well, but he doesn’t dare to accuse him openly.

Taeyong beats Yuta with ease and the next ones are Johnny and Ten. It’s probably the most balanced game out of the ones up until then; Doyoung cheers on Johnny because he’s that petty, and Jungwoo just laughs the whole time. In the end, Johnny scores the decisive point right before the end of the match, and lets Ten take the place on the sofa that Doyoung reluctantly leaves, laughing good-naturedly at Ten’s grumpy face.

Donghyuck is already set, sitting in front of Jungwoo’s feet, and while Doyoung is sitting down on his left, Donghyuck sends him an evil grin. Doyoung frowns, trying to focus on the screen as he checks his setup. With the corner of his eye he catches Donghyuck leaning back on Jungwoo’s legs, and Doyoung hears Jungwoo’s giggle, followed by Donghyuck’s, as Jungwoo’s hand starts petting Donghyuck’s head. He frowns some more.

From the armchair, Johnny says with a chuckle, “Doyoung looks like he just bit a lemon.”

The game starts and when did Donghyuck get so good at this game? Doyoung finds himself flailing as Donghyuck keeps scoring. Ten is openly snickering at him, and Doyoung would be doing that as well, had he been watching the match. Halfway though, however, he finally finds his footing, and slowly starts to catch up. When the match is about one minute away from finishing, and Donghyuck is only one point away from him, Doyoung feels a hand squeeze his right shoulder, and a moment later Jungwoo’s face feels very, very much close to the back of his head, with a _you can do it!_ whispered to his ear.

Doyoung feels himself freeze and Donghyuck scores another point.

“Oh,” Jungwoo sighs, sitting up, and Doyoung can feel his face burning up to his ears. He prays Jungwoo doesn’t notice that.

The match ends, with Donghyuck looking very pleased with himself. He drags Johnny out of the armchair he had occupied in the meanwhile and, once he has succeeded--just because Johnny let him, clearly, but Donghyuck is well aware Johnny has a soft spot for him and his antics--he perches on it, directing a smug smile at Doyoung, who lost the timing to steal a spot on the sofa.

Maybe it’s better like this, Doyoung tries to reason, because right now he doesn’t have the guts to face Jungwoo, much less sit next to him.

The second round starts, with Jaehyun vs. Taeyong. Doyoung doesn’t pay attention to the match. He doesn’t care. He’s still kind of dazed, and when Ten kicks him from behind, he barely reacts, because he’s too busy going through all his repertory of feelings, from exhilaration to a vague revulsion toward himself.

Jaehyun wins and Doyoung barely has time to see him act all smug before a hand pulls his arm and makes him sit on the sofa.

“Welcome back,” the owner of the hand, Jungwoo, jokes. Johnny is back on the floor to play against Donghyuck, and Doyoung is now sitting in his place. “The sofa is now made entirely of losers, so we can enjoy the last two matches from here.”

Doyoung nods mostly because it’s Jungwoo who’s talking rather than because he agrees, but sitting next to Jungwoo like this feels nice, he realizes once again, so it’s okay. He brings his legs to his chest and wraps his arms around them, looking at the screen without really watching, lost in his thoughts. Doyoung’s world feels soft and warm for the umpteenth time that day.

He can’t keep going like this. From now on, he decides, he’s going to gather up his courage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i had to write down who was on the sofa and who wasn’t because i have the memory span of a goldfish. btw donghyuck won. my wonderful sunshine, i hope he’s resting, eating lots and spending quality time with his family ;; get well soon my son


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and for the grand finale (?), change of pov and even a flashback.  
> i wrote it in a bit of a rush so i'm afraid there are some mistakes, i'll try to clean it up when i can.

Jungwoo tries to live his life without regrets, but one doesn’t need much common sense to realise that teenage hormones aren’t your best friend when you have such a goal. Feeling attracted to your best friend from time to time, in his mind, is filed under “things to ignore to avoid regretting them after.” Doyoung is his best friends, a person he hopes to keep even beyond high school, and teen romances are flimsical and fleeting. He realises he needs to reconsider, however, the day Doyoung calls him excited to announce him that he has made it into his university of choice and the first thing he feels, instead of happiness for his friend, is deep uneasiness.

What is going to happen to them?

Reality hits him just then. The distance he feels through the phone suddenly is too much, he _needs_ to meet Doyoung, immediately. Seeing him at school the next day isn’t fast enough.

“Can I come over?” he asks on the phone.

He can hear Doyoung hesitate. Why is he hesitating? In one instant, a million possibilities come up to his mind, and they send him into a panic.

“I’m going to celebrate with my parents later,” Doyoung tells him after a pause.

“Oh. It’s okay. See you tomorrow, then,” Jungwoo says quickly, afraid of turning the conversation awkward.

They close the call and Jungwoo feels an itch to go outside and run. He decides running isn’t a good idea, but he still puts his coat on and goes on a walk.

 

Doyoung always scolds him because he doesn’t wear enough clothes for the winter, but Jungwoo actually likes feeling the bite of the cold. He knows it’s something he can appreciate only because he has a warm place to go back to. The slight tremor for the cold mixes with excitement, even when his skin gets goosebumps, and he is filled with an energy he can’t exactly explain.

That said, winter this year hasn’t been very cold, compared to other years. Most of the snow fell between December and the first few days of January, but in the last couple of weeks it rained, even more often than usual, and all the traces of snow have been wiped away. The sky today is grey with a promise of rain, and Jungwoo just hopes it won’t start raining while he’s outside.

 

Graduation is right behind the corner, literally less than two weeks away, and he’s been avoiding thinking about it for too long. He’s good at running from facing reality, always has been. Of course it would be Doyoung the one who forces him to do it. He's been avoiding thinking about that creeping feeling that started once Doyoung told him his plans after graduation, but now the dreams are about to turn into reality. Jungwoo can't run away from them anymore by gluing himself to Doyoung like he has done in the last couple of months, basking in Doyoung’s attentions, asking always for more. And Doyoung gives even more, because that’s the sort of person he is.

Jungwoo know things have been shifting for a long time. He’s always known that Doyoung is objectively good looking--handsome with a touch of cuteness, maybe a little more than just a touch. He was already when they first met. It’s been almost three years, he realises, but Jungwoo doesn’t know if that should feel a long time ago or a short amount of time. It seems impossible to think his everyday without having Doyoung in the picture, to think that it hasn’t been like this since the start.

Jungwoo is afraid of having ruined all his chances for more when things started to change, more than one year ago, but what is most important, he doesn’t want to lose Doyoung, and suddenly he can’t convince himself that won’t happen. He wants to hear that from Doyoung as well.

 

When Jungwoo finally takes notice of his surroundings, he realises he’s walked to Doyoung’s neighbourhood. His feet brought him there while he was distracted with his thoughts, and Jungwoo wants to laugh, because of course he would end up there. He stops, but he can’t find it in himself to just turn and go back home. He glances up at the sky. He can hear the distant rumbling of thunder, and it should tell him to go back before it starts pouring and he gets drenched, but today everything just reminds him of Doyoung, Doyoung, Doyoung, and all he can think about is the rain in the autumn of their second year, when Doyoung would invite him at his place after class and they would run from the bus stop to the building where Doyoung’s family’s apartment is. They spent their time doing their homework, chatting about stupid things, but sometimes they would talk about themselves, and those are some of Jungwoo’s fondest memories with Doyoung: when the sound of the rain belting down outside made him feel like Doyoung’s small bedroom was the whole world, a world filled with Doyoung’s quiet voice as he went on and on about his plans for the future.

There’s a memory at the back of Jungwoo’s mind, a moment he’s been cherishing ever since, that takes place in that room, one of those days more than one year ago. As small as a fragment in time it is, it’s an important piece in their friendship, maybe a turning point of sort. As he stares as the sky, he thinks it could have been a different kind of turning point, and Jungwoo knows there’s no use regretting it now, but he does. There was a moment in their friendship when he looked at Doyoung under a new light, and let himself think about maybes and possibilities. But he brushed them away, and the moment was broken.

 

It was Doyoung the one who brought up the topic all of a sudden, that day.

Jungwoo remembers feeling vaguely bored, the kind of boredom you feel in your content idleness, their homework lying forgotten on Doyoung’s desk. He was sitting on Doyoung’s rolling chair, slumped over their books, while Doyoung had thrown himself on his own bed.

“You know I dated Jiae last year, right?”

Of course he knew. Doyoung and Jiae, from Jungwoo’s homeroom, had dated for a couple of months in the first semester of their first year of high school. She was cute, in a clean-cut way, and Jungwoo had to admit they looked cute together. He was friends with Doyoung already, but they weren’t very close, when that happened. It was a simple story, as far as Jungwoo knew: she confessed and they started dating, but after a while they started to drift apart, until they parted ways amicably.

The topic had felt bitter on his tongue, but it wasn’t because of jealousy or anything similar, because those things were still out of the picture back then. It felt bitter on that day because Jungwoo had something on the tip of his tongue, he had had for a while then, but he didn’t know the right words to tell it, nor the right timing, and as time went by, this little secret of his was becoming a nagging, uncomfortable thought, no matter how much he was telling himself he shouldn’t have felt bad for not telling Doyoung.

Jungwoo hadn’t even bothered to raise his head from the desk. “Yeah. So?”

Doyoung had hesitated. “Do you know why we broke up?”

It had piqued Jungwoo’s curiosity. “Why?” he had asked. “I thought there wasn’t a specific reason.”

“I mean. Yeah. We didn’t feel much like a couple, so we broke up. Kinda. But other than that.” Doyoung had taken a deep breath and wriggled a bit on the bed, looking uncomfortable.

Jungwoo had waited for his answer, but the silence had stretched on, the ticking of the rain on the window growing insistent. Jungwoo still remembers the odd feeling of anticipation in his chest.

“I had never dated and I wanted to… I… Uh. What I want to say is…”

Jungwoo had got up and sat next to Doyoung, sending him an encouraging smile. Maybe it was that, maybe Doyoung had managed to gather the courage on his own, but after that, he had calmed down. He had looked at Jungwoo, his eyes big and uncertain, and for a moment Jungwoo had wondered if he actually knew what was about to come out of his mouth.

“I think I’m not interested in girls,” Doyoung had finally said.

Jungwoo had nodded, slowly, taken aback. Doyoung was still looking at him, his brows slightly furrowed, and Jungwoo had known then that Doyoung was waiting for something, and that something wasn’t a simple response to his coming out. That he was giving him a chance.

So he had told him. “I think I’m gay,” he had murmured.

Doyoung had nodded, grabbing his pillow and burying his face in it. “This was so nerve-wracking,” Doyoung had said with a huff, not hiding his relief. “If I had been wrong and you reacted badly to this… I don’t know what I would have done.”

Jungwoo had observed him. “You knew about me.”

“I kind of imagined it,” Doyoung had replied, fidgeting. “I just. I don’t know. How you acted around girls. How you acted around boys. I guess I was looking for some signs, somewhere, that I wasn't alone,” he had added with a sigh.

 

That afternoon had changed everything, and yet everything still managed to look the same. They spent a lot time together, but that was something that was normal already by then.

And there came Jungwoo's regrets. There had been that curious stretch of time, those few weeks following that day, when they were close, so close, dancing on the edge of something, and then Jungwoo had backed away out of a new fear he couldn’t quite place, and he had done what he thought necessary back then to avoid a regrettable turn to their friendship--find a boyfriend.

Doyoung had been very gracious about it, acting like what they had had for a few weeks hadn’t been _something_ , and had cheered on the new couple as a best friend would. He was so good at it, in fact, that Jungwoo had started to wonder if he had imagined all of it.

It’s bitterly ironical how Jungwoo is now regretting refusing to let their friendship turn into something more because he was scared to regret it later.

 

“Jungwoo?”

Doyoung’s voice behind him makes Jungwoo jump. He turns, surprised. “Why are you here?”

Doyoung arches his brows. He’s wearing his usual puffy coat, but underneath he has one of the track pants he always wears at home. “That’s what I should be asking you. I saw you down the street when I looked out of my window. I told my parents I would be back soon and came down here.”

Jungwoo shuffles his feet. “I was taking a walk. I’ll. Uhm. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, but he doesn’t move yet. The compelling need from before to see Doyoung has vanished, replaced by an indecisiveness he has never felt this strong in his life.

Doyoung sighs. “Let’s go to the park.”

 

The park is actually just a patch of grass partially surrounded by a low wood fence, with a couple of sad-looking tree in one corner and swings and a slide in the other, a couple of metal benches on its perimeter, in Doyoung’s neighbourhood. They sit on the swings.

“Aren’t you cold in those?” Jungwoo gestures to Doyoung’s track pants.

Doyoung snorts. “You look way colder than me.”

“I’m okay,” Jungwoo mutters. His fingers are cold, and his nose is runny, but it makes him feel sharp, even if he has to force himself not to chatter his teeth.

Doyoung isn’t easily fooled, and he looks pointedly at Jungwoo, but doesn’t add anything.

“So what’s up, really?” Doyoung asks him. He has pulled up his coat sleeves to cover his hands so he can wrap them around the swing’s chains without touching them directly, and Jungwoo finds him so, so adorable as Doyoung kicks the ground and starts swinging. They’re way past the age recommended for these swings, and had it been a warm day, he’s sure they would have been immediately scolded by the neighbourhood grannies usually perched on the benches, as it has already happened in the past, but with this weather and at this hour, there’s no one around. The whole neighbourhood looks lonely and deserted.

Jungwoo leans his head on one of the chains, his eyes following Doyoung. The metal is freezing against his skin. “I was thinking about what will happen after we graduate.”

“Does the change scare you?”

Jungwoo hums. “Depends on what’s changing. I don’t mind leaving high school.”

“What is it then?”

Jungwoo sits up, rubbing the patch of skin that was touching the chain with his hand. His palm is hotter, but his fingers are almost as cold. “Do you think we’ll grow distant and stop keeping in touch?”

Doyoungs puts his feet down and drags them on the ground to stop. He gets up, one hand still on the chain, turning to look at Jungwoo, who looks up at him. “We won’t,” he says firmly. “Aren’t we best friends,” he adds after a bit, lowering his gaze to the ground.

“How can you be so sure?”

“I won’t let that happen,” Doyoung replies, sitting again on the swing. “Unless that’s what you want.”

“I’m telling you this is what is making me anxious and you think it’s something I would want?” Jungwoo scoffs.

Doyoung looks back at him and frowns, looking like he has something to say, but he doesn’t open his mouth. Jungwoo doesn’t say anything either. He should, he thinks. He should get this off his chest and put an end to it, but rejection terrifies him and what terrifies him the most is that this is a first for him.

“Maybe you’ll think that’s better,” Doyoung murmurs.

“What do you mean?”

Doyoung gets up again, and this time he walks up to Jungwoo, grabbing one of the chain of the swing Jungwoo is sitting on right above Jungwoo’s hand, almost but not quite touching. This close, Jungwoo has to crane his neck back to look at him.

“What do you mean?” Jungwoo asks again. He’s freezing--Doyoung was right--and he’s trembling because of it, but he still feels himself sweating.

“I was going to do this soon anyway,” Doyoung mutters under his breath, as if he’s trying to convince himself.

Doyoung takes a deep breath. Something big is coming, because that’s what Doyoung does when he’s trying to gather his courage. Jungwoo knows. Jungwoo knows so much about Doyoung, so many stupid, insignificant details he has memorised over the almost three years of knowing him, each one of them so endearing to Jhim, and he’s been avoiding admitting this to himself for so long it makes him dizzy.

“I mean that what I’m about to say will probably make you uncomfortable, so if you want to distance yourself from me after this, it would be the perfect chance to do so.”

The look in Doyoung’s eyes is serious, and Jungwoo finds himself frozen under his gaze, at loss of words.

Doyoung doesn’t wait for some kind of response from him. “I’m in love with you, Jungwoo,” he says, “I’m in love with you.”

Doyoung’s eyes are huge and staring at him and Jungwoo finds it difficult to think properly. He can see how Doyoung is holding his breath, how much he’s _afraid_ of what is going to happen, and Jungwoo finds it stupid, they’re both so stupid, he wants to laugh. He slowly rises to his feet, and Jungwoo keeps his eyes glued to Doyoung until they’re too close to do so, sliding his gaze down to their hands on the chain. He lets his hand slide up and touch with Doyoung’s, and then he slips it over his. Doyoung's fingers are hotter than his, and this close Jungwoo can feel Doyoung shivering at the contact.

Only then Doyoung breathes again, taking a long, shaky breath, starting to understand, and with the other hand he grabs a handful of Jungwoo’s coat.

“Doyoung,” Jungwoo breathes, his eyes moving to Doyoung’s lips, and then he inches closer, leaning in slowly, tentatively. Doyoung’s eyes flutter close, and Jungwoo feels ready and definitely not at the same time. He kisses the corner of Doyoung’s mouth, and then moves a bit and places another kiss, on his lips, this time. It’s brief, gentle, and Doyoung immediately pulls him forward for more, but even this second kiss is chaste and delicate. Doyoung’s lips are slightly chapped.

 

It starts pouring while Jungwoo is walking back Doyoung. The rain is freezing, and both Jungwoo and Doyoung aren’t wearing enough for the weather, so they soon find themselves shivering as they run. One of the building they pass has its entrance made of glass, and Jungwoo catches a glimpse of their reflection, two drenched boys running while holding hands. He starts laughing, feeling on cloud nine, and Doyoung watches him confused, but soon laughs with him. Two boys holding hands, running and laughing under the rain.

They reach Doyoung’s building, and Doyoung drags him in the lobby. As they wait for the elevator, catching their breath, Doyoung squeezes Jungwoo’s hand.

“We’ll figure it out,” Doyoung says, and Jungwoo immediately understands what he’s talking about. “Maybe we can’t see each other all the time like now, but we still live close, don’t we? It’s not like we’re moving away.”

There’s one last note of uncertainty in his voice, but Jungwoo squeezes Doyoung’s hand a little more, and Doyoung smiles at him.

“You’re right. We’ll make it work,” Jungwoo tells him, breathless, his wet hair sticking to his forehead, and maybe he’s still scared of the future, maybe he’s still afraid of losing his friends, but Doyoung’s grip is firm and he feels warm, so warm.

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a drabble about dowoo in winter like my previous au and somehow turned out to be the longest thing i’ve posted so far on ao3. oh well


End file.
